Three Sisters, Three Romances
by Bellatrix Andromeda Narcissa
Summary: Three sisters; three prompts; three lives; three very different romances. / I wrote this for The Three Sisters Black Competition on HPFC.
1. Passion: Bellatrix Black

_Bellatrix Black – "Passion"_

Bellatrix knew what she was feeling. She knew what made her heart beat faster every time the Lord glanced her way, she knew what made her body tremble every time the Lord touched her, she knew what made her face fill with pride every time the Lord complimented her. She _knew_.

She also knew it was ridiculous to hope that...somehow...he felt the same way. She knew he didn't..._couldn't _possibly_. _The thought of the Lord feeling the same way about her, as she did him made her feel euphoric, as though she was floating. She knew it was impossible. Yet, she couldn't help but wonder whether it was true.

The day the Lord recruited Rodoplhus and Bellatrix into the Death Eaters was the same day Bellatrix first kissed him.

After immediately dismissing Rodolphus with an impatient wave of his hand, the Dark Lord cleared his throat, gesturing for Bellatrix to come closer. She obliged at once, keeping her head bowed down, as she approached him silently.

For several moments, they simply stood facing each other, his eyes boring into hers slightly downcast ones. "Bellatrix Black." He gave a soft laugh. "You are...a woman."

Bellatrix stiffened. And before she could stop herself – "I am well aware of the fact, my Lord. But I had rather hoped you would look past that very fact, as I am more capable than many of my kind."

Bellatrix felt her breath catch in her throat, her eyes widen in alarm. _She had refuted the Dark Lord_. She raised her head, horrified with herself.

The Dark Lord's lips twisted into a cold smile. "I suppose you will eventually come to learn, my dear Bellatrix, that it is not in your interest – nor your rights – to talk back to me, _ever_."

Bellatrix nodded fervently. "I – I know, my Lord – I – I – do not know – what – what came over me –" she stopped short, as the Dark Lord silenced her with a simple flourish of his pale hand.

"As it is only your first meeting," the Dark Lord murmured coolly, "I shall not hold it against you. But if this persists, have it be known that I will not tolerate it."

"Of course, my Lord," Bellatrix whispered, mortified. She bowed deeply. "It will most certainly never happen again."

"Good...good..." The Dark Lord gazed at her. Then, "Pray, tell me, dear Bellatrix," – without warning, he reached forward, running his long pale fingers though her hair; Bellatrix shivered slightly – "what are your thoughts on marrying your lovely fiancé...Rodolphus." His lip curled.

"I – er – I –" she stammered. She took a deep breath. "I have no thoughts on the matter."

"Is that so?" he inquired loftily. "So if I were to...lean forward and..._kiss_ you...you would not object?"

Bellatrix gaped at him. "K-_kiss_, my Lord – ?"

But she proceeded no further, for the next instant, he had leaned forward and kissed her, his cold lips capturing hers. Bellatrix felt her heart explode, fireworks flash across her eyes. Passion – pure, wild, frenzied passion – rushed through her veins. And she found herself furiously repressing the urge to fling her arms around his neck and kiss him urgently.

The Dark Lord slowly pulled away from her, his eyes alight – though, whether from amusement or pleasure, Bellatrix could not tell. She hoped, with all her heart, that it was the latter.

Lacing his fingers deeper into her dark, voluminous hair, the Lord leaned forward once again, his lips just inches away from her ear. "You say you are a capable woman, Bellatrix," the Dark Lord hissed, causing Bellatrix to erupt into goosebumps. "Let me see whether that..._capability_...extends to the bedchamber."

A few hours later, Bellatrix learned the true meaning of 'passion'.


	2. Reflection: Andromeda Black

___Andromeda Black – "Reflection"_

It was her pastime. To look back on her life and wonder...where had she gone wrong? What had she done to deserve to be stuck in the Lestranges' smelly, old house, waiting on Rabastan, hand and foot? What had she wrong?

Oh, that was right. Nothing.

She hadn't done _anything_ wrong. She had given in to her parents' wishes without a single complaint. She had agreed to a respectable, pure-blood marriage. She had ended her relationship with Ted Tonks. She had agreed to wear the stupid little ring on her left hand every single minute of every single day. Andromeda glared down at the perfect, pristine, shining diamond. It reminded her of Rabastan: clean-cut, pure, but completely repelling.

Sighing slightly, Andromeda got to her feet, smoothing out her new dress robes, as she slowly made her way to the foyer of Lestrange Manor, where she, Bellatrix, and the Lestrange brothers were to be greeting guests. Ralph and Violet Lestrange had decided to throw a masquerade ball, to honor the newly announced engagements of their two sons.

"There she is!"

Rabastan greeted her jovially, raising his arms and booming out a laugh, as he yanked her close to him and smashed his lips to hers. Stars flashed before her eyes, her head spun. Rabastan's arms tightened uncomfortably around her waist, and Andromeda mewled in pain; somehow, she managed to turn it into a moan of pleasure.

Andromeda didn't miss the fire flashing in his eyes as he finally pulled away. The anger fluttering across his face. "You're late," he hissed inaudibly.

"I'm sorry," Andromeda murmured.

Rabastan simply seized her wrist tightly in response, pulling her into the front hall. She would pay for it later, she knew. A slap...a bruise...blood trickling from a deep cut on her cheek...Rabastan's angry voice reverberating through their bedchamber. So Andromeda forced her lips into a smile, ignored the constricting of her throat and the stinging of her eyes, as she allowed Rabastan to whisk her through the crowd.

She wasn't surprised to find herself in her favorite little spot on the countryside, later that evening, staring up at the indigo sky. Stars were just beginning to flicker into existence. In a second, she was able to spot her constellation. _Andromeda_. The small cluster of stars in the very middle of the darkening sky. She raised her hand, slowly tracing the constellation with her fingers. Suddenly, she gave a little sob, dropping her hand, as she pulled her legs up to her chest and pressed her buried her face in her knees, shoulders shaking.

"Well if it isn't our lovely Dromeda."

Andromeda jumped, turning around and quickly swiping away the wetness on her cheeks. Ted Tonks stood in front of her, hands in his pockets and a warm smile on his face. Andromeda gaped at him in disbelief, hastening to her feet.

"And what is your lovely highness doing in my backyard tonight?"

"Your – your backyard – ?"

Ted pointed smilingly to the wooden sign at the edge of the grass, which Andromeda had never noticed, until that night: 'TONKS'.

"_Oh_," Andromeda's eyes widened. "I – I'm so sorry – I didn't –" She took a deep breath. "I'll leave then."

"No, no," Ted laughed, shaking his head. "Stay awhile. Clearly you come here often."

"No, I really ought to be going," Andromeda insisted, pulling her shawl tightly around her shoulders. "Rabastan will be wondering where I've gotten off to."

"Oh." Ted nodded, his beaming smile faltering slightly. "Right. Of course. And – er – how is Rabastan?"

"He's fine," Andromeda said tersely, scowling as she moved her gaze down to her feet. "He's joining the Dark Lord."

Perhaps she had wished for him to be afraid. Perhaps she had wanted to see the fear flash across his mellow features. But rather than recoiling in shock, he simply smiled bemusedly and shrugged his shoulders. "And how does dear Dromeda feel about that?" he asked gently.

Andromeda remained silent, staring down at her shoes. Then she looked up, chin trembling. And before she knew what was happening, she had rushed forward and flung her arms around his neck, burying her face into the crook of his neck as she burst into tears.

She didn't know how long she stood there, wrapped in his warm arms. For once, she wasn't thinking. She wasn't reflecting on what she had done wrong. Because for the first time, she felt like she had done something _right_.


End file.
